Sunday, January 11, 2009

MYCAPSLOCKANDSPACEBARAREINCAHOOTS.

When stores started out, you could go into say, Ernie's General Store, and get yourself a big ol’ bag of flour or a giant can of soup. But really, Ernie would get it for you.

All the shit was behind the counter and you would tell him what you want, then he would climb his feeble old ass up the ladder and fetch it for you, you would cut a penny in half to pay Ernie for your groceries (remember, shit was cheap back then), then he would put everything in giant paper bags for you.

Fast forward. Ernie’s brother Ted is all like, “Ern, you waste half the day climbing up and down the ladder to get groceries, which cut into time for more important things like setting up an old pickle barrel so Ed and George could sit there and play chess all day. Why don't you let these jerks get their own shit?”

So Ernie he decided to put all of his merchandise out on shelves. This way, people could get what they needed without bothering him, and they would bring all their stuff to the counter at the end. Less work for Ernie, more work for you (Good for you, Ernie.)

And for a long time, that was the norm. And in many places, it still is. But a few years back, they introduced the self-checkout. These days, when you go shopping at Wal Mart, you might as well put on a blue vest and greet customers at the door because shopping alone is more work than the actual employees are doing. Hell, greeters don't even greet you anymore! What the hell are they doing, besides curbing terrorism by putting bright pink stickers on your bag?

Now, you get what you need, take it to the counter, ring it through yourself, pay for it, and bag it yourself.

Fuck Ernie. You don’t even have to talk to him.

Although, I do consider the upside of self-checkouts. Like buying a shitload of bulk cashews, then marking them down from $9.00 a pound to the price of peanuts (99¢ a pound). And don’t forget the fact that the computer speaks better English than most of the cashiers anyways.

You know when you want to undo a mistake on a computer, you hit CTRL + Z and it deletes it? I’ve been conditioned by keyboard shortcuts like this and it's starting to affect the rest of my life.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve dropped change, got off at the wrong bus stop, spilled a drink or otherwise had some sort of accident and tried to mentally hit CTRL + Z, simultaneously realizing that A) I’m a fucking idiot because I'm not even sitting at a computer, and B) see A.

Hey! What would you do for a free Whopper? Would you go so far as to turn your back on friendship?

"Install Whopper Sacrifice on your Facebook profile and we'll reward you with a free flame-broiled Whopper Sandwich when you sacrifice 10 of your friends," says this ridiculous Facebook application.

This is an easy one. I could probably get three free whoppers if I gave my list some honest thought. The catch though, is that they'll let your friends know how shitty a friend you are because you've deleted them for a free hamburger. Now friends all over Facebook are threatening joking that they’re going to delete each other for a free Whopper.

(My friend commented, “It’s the great BK-FB Scandal of 09. It'll be like Watergate... but then who gets to be Deepthroat?” to which I could have made any number of sexually-charged replies involving his mother.)

If I deleted you, would you understand? Could I just re-friend you after I eat my Whopper? don't think they can repossess a digested Whopper. Or if they can, they probably wouldn't want to. Then they would put Arby's out of business.

I’m just wondering how far they can take this. Are we fucking savages? Have I turned into a ruthless beast, willing to sacrifice anything for a measly morsel? Would I punch my grandmother in the nose if I could get a scrap of meat?

I don’t think we’ve come much farther than the caves we used to live in.

Would you punch your friend in the face for a Whopper? Send me a picture of you belting your best friend right in the kisser and I’ll give you a free Whopper.